


Something More

by darkangel1211



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Ending, Established Relationship, M/M, post season one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 18:11:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9778499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkangel1211/pseuds/darkangel1211
Summary: “Do you remember, little soul?” the voice murmurs, lips mouthing the words into Ciel’s hair.Ciel shakes his head minutely; no, he doesn’t remember, but there’s something else now which has his attention. There’s an ache that wasn’t there before, right under Sebastian’s hand, and Ciel realises it’s his heart.(An alternate ending to Season 1)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mishka_kitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mishka_kitty/gifts).



> This work is dedicated to Mishka_kitty as a thank you for sharing her Bond Mates AU with us. Her AU has heavily influenced this piece and I highly recommend giving them a read. 
> 
> Disclaimer: all characters, etc, belong to their respective owners and the Bond Mates AU to Mishka_kitty. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this small oneshot xxx

_"-Master..."_

The voice drifts to Ciel as though from a deep fog, muffled and reverberating; he finds that he recognises the voice, but he can't pinpoint its location. It sounds too far away. 

_"Young Master..."_

It's insistent, this voice. Softly spoken, almost like its owner is saying the words directly into his ear, but there's an intensity behind it that can't be hidden away. And there, underneath that insistence; a subtle urging, although Ciel has no idea what for. He's unsure why he would ever want to leave, surrounded in warm comfort as he is.

He might be wrong but it feels almost like how peace would feel; if he is even capable of it at all.

Slowly, gradually, his awareness starts to come to life. The warmth he feels is in direct contact with his body, a gentle rippling against naked skin, and Ciel realises he's submerged up to his neck in it. Like he's in one of Sebastian's hot baths, the flowing water mimicking his demon's hands against his body as they wash away the filth and grime from London's underworld.

He's weightless, would be almost formless if not for the awareness of his own body and the acute sensation of his heart beating in his chest. Ciel could drift away into the soothing darkness again, were it not for that voice and the press of something around his chest. Arms, he realises, their heat and strength an anchoring presence. They keep him close to the body underneath him, his back pulled against a firm chest with his head pillowed on one shoulder.

_"My young lord, it's time to wake up..."_

Ciel makes a small sound in his throat akin to that of a disturbed kitten; normally he would flush with embarrassment over making such a noise, but it would be a foolish reaction when all he wants to do is sleep. There's a low hum against his temple and a rush of hot breath; Ciel shivers despite the hot water, his fingers twitching in the memory of tangling into something dark and glossy, like sliding his hands through oil the colour of onyx.

Another sensation pierces his fog, the tender press of lips to his cheek and then his ear, a gentle tug of the lobe between sharp teeth. Ciel's body is sluggish in its response, but it responds nonetheless; he is familiar with the feel of those lips on his body and the way they tease reactions out of him. Small childlike giggles; twitches of muscle beneath skin when sensitive nerves are pressed; long, drawn-out moans when those lips wrap themselves around the more intimate parts of him.

A flush spreads over his cheeks now, a throb in his abdomen reminding him of his physical state. The owner of the voice has been only too happy to remind Ciel of it in the past, but, for now, those hands remain still.

Sounds drift to silence; the water calms and steam permeates the air. Overriding it all, the moist thumping of his own heartbeat. Sebastian's hand rests on Ciel’s chest, a long tapered claw tapping out his heart’s rhythm on his breast bone. Ciel knows he hasn’t opened his eyes yet despite Sebastian’s urging, too wrapped up in the sensation of his body and how it presses back against his butler.

Not so much a butler now, the claws against his skin suggest, but it’s an honesty Ciel can appreciate.

A dark chuckle resounds, but it’s not tinged with sadistic humour, as is often the case. It’s filled with something resembling relief and Ciel can’t bring himself to envision why; the emotion is a foreign, unknown thing when paired with Sebastian’s true form. Relief isn’t something a demon feels, or so Ciel has imagined; why would there ever be a situation in which to succumb to it? 

Against his chest, the finger stops tapping his heart’s rhythm and is replaced with Sebastian’s palm; the touch is possessive and Ciel feels a burn behind his right eye, the contract mark flaring in response to his demon.

_Anger / rage / possessiveness_

Fear…

 _“Do you remember, little soul?”_ the voice murmurs, lips mouthing the words into Ciel’s hair.

Ciel shakes his head minutely; no, he doesn’t remember, but there’s something else now which has his attention. There’s an ache that wasn’t there before, right under Sebastian’s hand, and Ciel realises it’s his heart. What…?

Emotions that are not his own tangle loosely within him. Since the formation of their contract, Sebastian has always been very good at hiding what he feels from his master, allowing only one sender and receiver within their infernal bond. As the years passed, their contact endured and slowly morphed as they grew. It was only logical that the bond between them changed too, becoming less like master and servant and approaching something that could be called equality.

Ridiculous, but then again, so was summoning a demon in the first place.

Those emotions are free for Ciel to access now; nothing is hidden and so Ciel feels the full force of his demon’s anxiety and frustration, the deep-seated urgency to act, to protect, to _save_ …

Ciel opens his eyes to darkness, a gasp tearing from his chest. He lifts a hand to his own chest, placing it above Sebastian’s as though he can feel the muscle underneath it. His heart…

Sebastian moves with the undulation of Ciel’s body, crooning softly to soothe his little contractor as the memories overcome them both.

_An angel blade._

In an instant, Ciel remembers the feel of the blade as it sinks into his chest, the flesh splitting open with ease as the holy weapon buries itself into his heart. A parting gift from that accursed angel, Angela, before Sebastian finally laid her to rest.

A final torment with her dying breath; if she couldn’t have Ciel, then neither could Sebastian.

“Sebastian…”

Before his eyes, the darkness recedes and Ciel is greeted with a night sky blanketed with stars. The beauty of it is enough to take his breath away, had not the sight of Sebastian’s wings already completed the action for him. They are pitch black and glimmering in the moonlight, curled protectively around him and keeping him safe.

Ciel lifts his head to look across the water, startled and entranced to see the water they’re in has been stained black. He has no idea where they are, but he can see the outline of trees against the moons light, the subtle reflection of old stone ruins morphing into existence as his eyes adjust to the minimal light.

He shifts his body at last, needing to see his demon, his knight, his protector. It’s a demon’s eyes that meet his own, but Ciel isn’t afraid. He lifts a hand stained with darkness and settles it on Sebastian’s own chest, Sebastian’s own hand mirroring Ciel’s action perfectly.

“What did you do?” Ciel asks, his voice a whisper, and Sebastian smiles, all sharp teeth and possession.

“I saved you, young master,” is the soft reply and Ciel thinks he understands what Sebastian has done, what he felt the need to do, the lengths he had to go to achieve it.

Underneath their hands, two hearts beat in perfect synchrony.

_The end_

**Author's Note:**

> Here is some of the music I listened to while writing this fic:
> 
> 'Something More' by Word Clock (the song after which this story is named)  
> 'Afterglow' by Thom Brennan  
> 'Someway' by Julianna Barwick   
> 'The Calling' by Jon Jenkins 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading xxx


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